


Tales From Off The Battlefield

by hella_fandoms



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anduin starts to doubt himself and needs to reevaluate his life choices, F/F, F/M, Jaina needs a stiff drink, M/M, My demon hunter could use a day off, Paladin tries not to murder rogue girlfriend, Probs more characters as I write them, Sanriel wants to stab people (especially Arthas), Varian finds exactly the wrong moment to walk into Anduin's room, basically the last few fictober 2018 drabbles are just the kids getting into trouble, kinndy encourages trouble, smol priest is too pure for the world, some random drabbles that have no place in my full story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella_fandoms/pseuds/hella_fandoms
Summary: Small snippets of what goes on in the lives of the characters when they're not getting pummeled by the latest Big Bad Boss. Includes fluff, angst, and overall characters who need some stiff drinks.





	1. Will that be all?

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my second ficlet collection, the first one is over in the Star Wars section. This one will, like that one, gain more tags as we go along and may change in rating? I don't have any archive warnings down yet, but that may change depending on what I write. I'll try to drop a story in here every so often, the current tags are just so I can drop the stories that I already have written from Fictober 2018 and not worry about tags. These tags go up to chapter 9 as a result and will start changing after that. Anyway, to the story.

Sanriel gazed over the edge of the great fortress, her glowing eyes taking in the carnage being wrought below.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” her companion asked.

Sanriel certainly didn’t think so. She hated it, all of it. Once, she had been one of the fiercest defenders of the Alliance, a captain who led her men into battle against the Horde time and again. And then, the forces of the undead had come and she had been killed, only to rise as a slave of the Lich King.

“I feel nothing for them,” she said instead. Oh, how she wanted to swoop down and defend her brethren from these monsters. She bolstered her faith with the thought of the King. Varian Wrynn was a proud warrior, surely he would come to his people’s defense? Once, she had been sure, but doubt now colored her thoughts.

“You’re quiet tonight,” the man beside her noted. His once-captivating blue eyes had been replaced with the same unholy icy glow that had taken hers. How she missed his eyes, and their friendship. Now, he was a thrall of the Lich King as she was, a helpless captive.

Where she had been made more circumspect, he had become bloodthirsty. She became a more cautious leader and he rushed into battle without a care. She maintained some vestige of free thought, and he was nothing but a monster, like the rest of them.

“What are you thinking of?”

“The battle to come.”

“I would have thought you felt-“

“I feel nothing,” she snapped.

He hesitated, and then shook his head, “Will that be all?”

“Yes. You may go.”

He left, leaving Sanriel to her dark musings and her fervent prayers to any being she thought might listen, begging them to put a stop to the man who had once been Arthas Menethil.


	2. Take What You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Battle for Lordaeron happens and Rayanel just wants a moment to put on her armor so she doesn't die. She also greatly admires Anduin's ability to put up with copious amounts of bullshit. She wants that ability.

Rayanel was not amused. Her armor was only halfway on and she was already being hassled.

One of her men, a priest by trade and a warrior by necessity, was frantically shoving potions into his belt pouches as he went on about the siege that they were in the midst of. She hated priests, they were so damn chatty… save for the young king.

Surprisingly, she had found Anduin Wrynn to be a quick study and an even quicker mind in battle. Clearly, his father had raised him well.

“Ready to go?” the icy cold tones of Sanriel, their resident death knight General, interrupted Raya’s thoughts.

“Alright, listen up!” Raya shouted, drawing her men’s attention, “We go to take back Lordaeron from the Banshee Queen and her Horde. We won’t be coming back here for a good long while, so take what you need and let’s go kick some Horde ass!”

Sanriel seemed unusually eager to go kick Horde ass, but Raya just took her for a loyalist. The soldiers formed up with the other units, at the forefront of which was the young king himself. Much to the amusement of the others, Sanriel had taken to calling him “the Little Lion”. Genn Greymane had overheard her once and left laughing.

The sun was rising, enough for Raya to catch a glimpse of an orc and a troll arguing some distance from the city gates. The pair fled back inside as the war horns sounded.

“Forward!” came the cry, and so the soldiers surged forward into battle.

[=][=][=]

Sanriel cut down yet another Horde soldier and looks around. There, High Chieftain Saurfang was on his knees before the King. She’d always liked the orc chieftain, he was honorable and cared for his people.

“My king,” she said, striding over, “The chieftain fought honorably today, wouldn’t you say?”

“He did,” Anduin agreed, “We will take him to Stormwind.”

Saurfang protested, but Sanriel stepped before him, inclining her head slightly.

“Live for your people, honored chieftain.”

The chieftain relented, allowing himself to be led away. Sanriel turned to Anduin.

“He will not provide information.”

“But he will live,” the young priest turned king replied, “Thank you, Sanriel. Really.”

“Hmpf. He doesn’t listen well to little lions.”

Anduin laughed, “You will never change.”

“So long as there is an Azeroth to protect, I will not change.”

Anduin nodded and led their small party through the gates of Lordaeron, as they were joined by Jaina Proudmoore and Alleria Windrunner, to face the Banshee Queen herself, General Sylvanas Windrunner.

The very woman Sanriel had died trying to save.


	3. I Heard Enough, This Ends Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sanriel will cut a bitch to protect Jaina and somehow winds up trying to make friends with people she already knows

Sanriel Valdynn could feel her rage grow as Lady Ashvane kept speaking. Finally, she’d had more than enough and stepped forward.

“I have heard enough. This ends now,” she announced, moving to stand by Lady Jaina Proudmoore’s side.

“Sanriel…” Jaina protested, but Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore spoke over both of them.

“Who are you to speak so boldly?”

“I admit, I am a little insulted that you do not remember me. I am General Sanriel Valdynn, daughter of Westfall and Kul Tiras.”

“I remember you… loyal protector of the Wrynn line… and daughter of my husband’s dearest friend.”

“Aye, my lady. I am not here on the King’s behalf, to protect his trusted advisor and friend.”

Ashvane scoffed, “A daughter of Kul Tiras would know her duty.”

“Enough!” Jaina snapped, the air chilling, “I will surrender peacefully. General Valdynn, I entrust you with the talks on behalf of the King.”

Sanriel wanted to protest, but bit her tongue and bowed her head, “Yes, my lady.”

She watched with a cold gaze as they led Jaina off before returning her attention to Ashvane and the Lord Admiral.

“Shall we negotiate?” she asked, adding effect to her words by casting a silent spell for frost to grow around her feet on the ground.

“For what are we negotiating?” Proudmoore asked.

“King Wrynn requests the aid of Kul Tiras against the forces of the Horde. Unfortunately for you, I am not as forgiving a negotiator as Lady Jaina. The Horde has already killed many of my comrades. I will not let them, or my father, die for nothing.”

“Your father was a brilliant mage, and a good friend to Daelin.”

Sanriel answered simply, “I know. It is why he served the Alliance faithfully and died bravely.”

“He died a son of Kul Tiras, General Valdynn. Shall we retire to discussions?”

“We shall.”


	4. No Worries, We Still Have Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rayanel wonders what the fuck she saw in this goddamn rogue in the first place. Also known as "A Rogue Drags a Paladin Into a Jailbreak for Shits and Giggles"

“Can’t you work any faster?”

“Do you want me to trip the wards?”

The night elf glared up at the human, gesturing at the door she was working with. Rayanel threw her hands up in frustration and Nereyi grinned.

They were currently in the process of trying to break into a jail, which was pretty average for the elven rogue, even if said jail was highly enchanted.

“I still cannot believe I let you talk me into this!” Rayanel hissed.

“Oh, relax, will you? You’re making me tense.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, let me bust down the door? That will relieve much of your tension.”

“The name of the game is stealth, paladin.”

“Stealth is taking too long.”

“No worries, we still have time, so keep your armor on,” Nereyi drawled.

Rayanel gave a muted snarl and turned away to keep watch.

The kal’dorei neatly inserted her tools into the lock and worked them carefully. Finally, the lock clicked and the door creaked open.

“Like I said, no worries,” Nereyi smirked.

“Oh, there are some worries.”

Both women peered into the cell to see a very unhappy Pandaren woman glaring at them.

“Uh, wrong cell, so sorry,” Nereyi said quickly.

Rayanel grabbed her arm and they took off at a run.


	5. I Know You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leanne gets bad news and decides to go fuck some shit up.
> 
> (As a side note, this piece is outside of my own character's lore, it was a snippet of an idea that got tossed aside, but I liked the character interactions in it so I kept it. It should be noted that this was also written before I got neck deep in the lore as I am now, so is also super noncanon conforming.)

Leanne Valdynn gazed at her husband’s dearest friend and felt her world fall out from under her.

“Daelin…”

“He was the only who could get us out of that fight in one piece and he knew it. That arrow should never have been meant for him, but those damn Scourge managed it anyway,” Daelin Proudmoore bowed his head.

“What were you doing in Northrend, anyway?” Leanne finally asked, after several minutes of silence.

“King Wrynn asked if someone could look into some troubles on the seas, and who better than a Kul Tiran to handle sea troubles?”

“Indeed,” she murmured, then sighed, “I don’t even have any tears for him, Daelin. I cried them all for Sanriel, when she died.”

“I know. Would you send this along to Jaina?” the admiral asked, holding out a package, “I’m due back home and I won’t be able to send it out before I leave.”

“Of course. I’ve a few things of my own to send as well.”

Daelin turned to leave and paused, “I wish I could have taken that arrow for him.”

“I know you do.”

Daelin gave a nod and left, leaving Leanne to her small blacksmith shop and the realization that, once again, she was all alone in the world.

The door creaked and a shadow appeared.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mathias Shaw said simply. He held a letter in his hands.

“How did you find me, Shaw? I’ve spent years hiding from Stormwind Intelligence.”

“High Priestess Tyrande is not blind to the blacksmith who makes weapons enchanted with shadow magic.”

“Of course she’s not. At least the Sentinels have not been down here.”

Shaw nodded simply, “Leanne, I have a missive for you.”

“What of it?”

He handed it over, and she saw the royal seal, her eyes widening.

“Is this…?”

“The Scourge is growing stronger and more dangerous. We need all the people we can get. That is a formal pardon and an invitation to return to Stormwind Intelligence as an advisor and teacher.”

Leanne looked down at the sealed letter, “Let me have a few days. I have a funeral to attend… and matters to deal with.”

“Of course, old friend. Just know I would very much like to see you train our new agents the same way you trained me.”

“I don’t know that I did that good.”

“I am the spymaster, you did fine.”

“Well, in that case…”


	6. You Shouldn't Have Come Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a shotgun wedding happens and Leanne and Kalen deal with both her asshole father and an impending newcomer.

It was dark and cold, and he was starting to lose feeling in his hands. Rubbing them together briskly, he stepped into the small stable where too many clandestine encounters occurred.

The woman inside was tending to a young foal, and looked up when he approached.

“Kalen!” she smiled, “You’re actually here!”

“Why wouldn’t I be, Leanne, my love?”

“I thought for sure that Daelin fellow was keeping you busy.”

He laughed, “He has a new occupation. Her name is Katherine, she’s a kind lass and he loves her dearly.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad for him,” Leanne smiled, but then she froze, her smile disappearing and her eyes becoming fixed on a point behind Kalen.

The mage turned and found himself face to face with a greying man.

“So,” the man said, “You’re the one who ruined my daughter.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kalen frowned, “Leanne, what-“

“She didn’t tell you yet, boy? She is with child.”

Kalen’s eyes widened and he turned to stare at Leanne, who appeared so scared.

“Forgive me, kind sir,” Kalen murmured, “I never meant to tarnish your daughter’s honor. She is dear to me.”

“Hmpf,” Leanne’s father snorted, “Too late for apologies now, boy. I have a priest ready. No child of mine will bear a bastard.”

“Father, please!” Leanne cried out.

“Love, it’s okay,” Kalen Valdynn straightened, “For the sake of our child, we must.”

The lord smirked, “Are you thinking you shouldn’t have come here tonight, boy?”

“No. This is wonderful news, I would never abandon your daughter, sir, I swear it.”

“We’ll see.”


	7. You Think This Troubles Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vayalandra remembers why she stopped dealing with the sin'dorei and the Horde, and a demon hunter manages to be the least noticed person in the entire city.

Naralis frowned at the view before her. Orgrimmar was a… nice city, but it wasn’t her home. She barely remembered her home anymore, so long it had been since she had seen the village of her birth.

The Illidari demon hunter crouched atop a cliff and watched the people below. Blood elves bartered with goblins, orcs and tauren shared tales, and Forsaken slunk through the shadows. Her Spectral Sight granted her clarity enough to ensure that none of them were demons, nor were there any around hiding.

A sin’dorei woman in brown robes with a staff stopped before members of the Kor’kron and said something that seemed to be of urgency. Moments later, they let her pass into Grommash Hall.

[=][=][=]

Vayalandra offered a deep bow to Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen.

“What brings you to Orgrimmar, Priestess?” the other woman drawled.

“I am here at the behest of King Wrynn, my lady. He wishes to discuss a partnership against the Legion.”

“King…” Sylvanas chuckled, “The boy who somehow forgave Garrosh for his many crimes is now king. I wonder… what would Varian think of his son parlaying with the Horde?”

“I would hope he would be proud,” Vayalandra replied firmly.

Sylvanas laughed, “Perhaps he might, the boy did weaken the great warrior.”

Vayalandra’s staff smacked the ground and she glowered, “Watch your tongue, Banshee.”

“You think this troubles me?” Sylvanas asked, “The boy may do as he wishes. The Horde will stand just fine without his pretenses of peace.”

“Very well,” Vayalandra said, “I will inform him.”

“Nathanos,” the warchief called out, “Escort the priestess to her griffin and ensure she leaves Horde territory in one piece… we must ensure the boy king gets the message.”

Vayalandra left in a swirl of dark robes and dark purple hair.


	8. But I Will Never Forget!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Varian walks in at the wrong time and the boys have some explaining to do.

This was not exactly how he intended things to go. Varian had just wanted to talk to his son, to try and mend things between them somewhat, but instead he found his son in an… interesting position with a black dragon of all beings.

Now, he was very firmly ignoring the dragon and glaring at Anduin.

“Really? A black dragon? Anduin…”

The blonde teenager looked slightly abashed, “Father, I can explain.”

“Can you?” Varian asked, “Because it was pretty clear to me what was going on.”

“I’m sure-“

“Hush,” Varian pointed at the dragon without looking away from his son. The whelp fell silent.

“Okay, so maybe it was… what you thought it was… ugh, this is so weird!” Anduin muttered, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

“I bet,” Varian sighed, “Look, there’s an old trick. It involves a sock.”

“Are you telling me to-“

“Yes. To… avoid any future misunderstandings.”

“Can’t we just forget this ever happened?” Anduin pleaded, “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

“But I will never forget that, Anduin. For Light’s sake, that could almost have been worse!” Varian groaned, “Some days, I really wish your mother were here. She could deal with this.”

The dragon looked like he wanted to laugh, and almost started.

“Wrathion…”

“What? It is actually funny,” the dragon shrugged.

Varian smirked, “In a way, it is. Just… not the conversation I was wanting to have tonight.”

“Sorry,” Anduin flushed.

“Just… sock, next time. Please.”

“Yes, Father.”

It wasn’t even a question of whether it would happen again, in Varian’s mind. He could tell the two were smitten with each other, so it was just a matter of when it would happen again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one to walk in on them next time. It would be pretty amusing if Genn did, though… Varian just wanted to see the look on the old king’s face.


	9. Who Could Do This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jaina learns quickly that two young magic users are a lot to handle, especially when one is a Wrynn and naturally predisposed to trouble.

Jaina Proudmoore looked around in shock. Half of the books had flown off the shelf and one of the candles had fallen, almost on top of something flammable, but she’d cast a quick frost spell before any spark could catch. In the midst of it all stood a very embarrassed Anduin Wrynn.

“I… think we should dial it back, just a bit.”

“You think?” Kinndy Sparkshine muttered, looking around, “I gotta clean this up!”

“I’ll help!” Anduin offered, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would do that.”

“Next time, we’re practicing outside, to avoid this. Also, try containing it just a little bit more,” Jaina instructed.

The boy flushed, “That’s what I did… I think it backfired.”

“Right. We start with managing the power of the spells first…”

A head poked in, “Everything alright?”

It was one of Jaina’s guards, and she gave a quick smile, “Just a training mishap, you know how it goes.”

“Aye, m’lady. Just let us know if you need a hand with the mess.”

The guard disappeared once again and Jaina turned to see Anduin scrambling to pick up books and stack them on top of the table to replace. Kinndy was collecting the fallen candle.

The door opened just as they finished and Varian Wrynn peeked in, “The guards said there was… oh.”

He looked around at the mess that still remained and asked, “Who could do this? Jaina?”

“Not quite.”

Anduin flushed even darker, and Varian stared.

“You did this, Anduin?”

The boy didn’t look up and Varian started laughing.

“Why am I not surprised?” the king chuckled, “I guess there will be more lessons.”

“Definitely. Kinndy could use a training partner.”

The gnome apprentice and the human prince exchanged a very tired look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks me having caught up with my Fictober 2018 pieces, I'll try and work on some new stuff over the semester, but we'll see.


	10. When Light Fails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a post by druidonity on Tumblr.
> 
> What happens when, in the midst of a pitch battle, one of the Light's most devout priests must question everything he thought he knew?

He was getting tired, and he could feel it. Darkness creeping along the edges of his vision, his limbs feeling like lead, the naga army seeming so vast and endless.

The Alliance forces were starting to falter, a few mages and priests falling over from mana exhaustion, shaman and druids struggling to stay on their feet.

But distraction was dangerous. Distraction got you killed, a fact Anduin Wrynn knew all too well. He'd nearly had his head taken off early in the battle for Stormwind by an overeager naga soldier. Genn had chased that one off, long enough for Anduin to finish healing the soldier he'd been tending to and begin giving orders for a defense.

The defense had crumbled after sixteen hours, reduced to pockets of soldiers giving their all to protect the civilians who were evacuating on the Tram and through the eastern side of the city, which was hopefully free of naga invaders. He certainly hoped so. The thought of having inadvertently sent his people off to their deaths was horrifying.

A flash of pure Light showed Turalyon struggling with a dozen naga who converged on him. Anduin made to help, but more naga swarmed him and he was forced to defend himself. Shalamayne cut through the enemy with ease, and the Light kept him healed from small injuries they inflicted when they got past his Barrier.

Anduin downed yet another naga when he felt pain rip through his shoulder and glanced down to find a naga spear through it. The naga in question ripped it out harshly and the young king bit back a strangled cry of pain, falling to one knee, one hand on his sword and the other coming up to heal his shoulder.

Darkness encroached further on the edges of his vision as he focused his energies on healing. it was taking a while, and he knew his mana must be running very low. He called on the Light to refresh and heal him... but found it just outside his reach.

"What?" he whispered, reaching out again, only for the Light to slip out of his grasp once more.

"Aren't you adorable? The little priest, abandoned and alone. You're just so quaint, little king."

Azshara. The naga Queen slithered closer, grasping his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

"Nothing to say? What a pity. That paladin had plenty to say, before we killed him."

Was she talking about Turalyon? It was entirely possible.

The queen continued, "It hardly matters. You will die and your city will be ours. We'll go through that tram and through the forests to hunt your people down."

"They're... long... gone," he forced out. The grip she had on his face made speaking slightly difficult.

She laughed, "Such spirit! I might keep you around. What do you think, I'll keep you all nice and pretty in my palace and let you watch your cities burn and your people fall. I might even bring you friends!"

"Never."

"Pity," she frowned, "You'd have made such a handsome pet, too. Oh well. Do with him what you will."

The last part was directed at her soldiers and as they closed in around him, he felt something cold press against his mind.

He'd felt it before, in Pandaria. It always called to him when he was desperate and alone and afraid. But he could not give in to it, so he shoved it away and tried futilely to reach for the Light.

Suddenly, the naga turned away as a massive purple-black portal opened and void elves rushed out, firing arrows and throwing magic around.

Anduin nearly fell over without the naga holding him up, but gentle hands grasped him.

"Anduin. Anduin!"

It was Alleria. The eldest Windrunner sister looked worried, her eyes glowing with Void energy.

"Alleria. I'm okay."

"Your shoulder is a mess and I have no idea how your muscles haven't spasmed and dropped that sword yet. Let's get you out of here."

"Turalyon, he was-"

"We've got him... shit, incoming!"

The ren'dorei leader threw up her hands and projected a Void anomaly, consuming the incoming naga entirely.

Again, the Void's power whispered at the edges of his mind, and again he shoved it away. Alleria and her people may be able to control the Void, but they were rare.

Or were they? He was a Discipline Priest, he wasn't unfamiliar with the call of the Void. It was a sweet, honeyed call, but held hidden venom in its promises. Yet, the ren'dorei accepted that honeyed venom and molded it to their will, refusing to let it control them as they controlled it.

Was it possible that... no, he couldn't go down that path. That path led him to mind control his friends and allies in Pandaria, a horrible thing to do to anyone.

"Anduin?"

He jerked out of his thoughts and gazed at Alleria. She was in her voidform, but still recognizable.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, it's just..."

"You can't heal yourself, can you?" she murmured, "Your mana must be entirely exhausted. But, the battle is mostly over, so we can get you tended to. Come, one of the ren'dorei priests can tend to your wounds."

"But-"

"Don't worry, they won't use the Void if it makes you uncomfortable. I know powerful Light users are wary of it."

The pain in those words reminded Anduin of the long-running strain between her and Turalyon. The pair barely spoke to each other except in the presence of their son. Arator had told Anduin that his parents didn't agree on Alleria's use of the Void, but that Turalyon had accepted Alleria's decision after so long rejecting it.

"Come on, up with you," Alleria murmured, pulling him to his feet, hands wrapped around his good arm.

He focused on keeping the encroaching darkness at bay as she led him to one of the ren'dorei priests, a cheerful young man with messy hair and robes.

"Ah, Your Majesty! Don't worry, we'll fix you right up! This might take a bit, my Light healing isn't the fastest-"

"Do whatever... takes less mana..."

The priest looked startled, "Are you sure? Light users don't play well with Void magic."

"It's okay... I'm probably gonna pass out... anyway..."

"Right then. We'll get you healed properly, then."

Anduin didn't remember much after that point until he woke up. It was dark, that much he could tell. There was the occasional glow from an arcane light and from someone healing.

"Glad to see you back in the land of the living."

He turned his head to see the priest who had healed him. His robes were somehow messier and there were bloodstains along his sleeves.

"What are the casualties?"

"Too many," the ren'dorei sighed, "Lady Alleria is writing up a report now. Should I let her and the others know you're awake?"

"Yes, please."

He sat up, allowing the priest to help him as his shoulder flared in pain and his leg reminded him of its dislike of staying in one position for too long.

"Did you injure your leg as well?"

"No... that's been around for a while."

"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry."

With a whisper, Anduin cast a Renew that dulled the pain somewhat. The priest excused himself and hurried off.

Shortly afterwards, Alleria arrived. She had a weary look on her face, but looked determined.

"How bad is it?" was his first question.

"Well, the good news is that civilian casualties were very low, only a hundred dead and a few hundred injured. If you hadn't begun the evacuation when you did, it would have been much worse."

"What of the soldiers?"

Alleria's look darkened, "At least a thousand dead, many more injured. I don't have final estimates yet, a number of soldiers were dragged out to sea and drowned, so we're still waiting for the recovery boats to come back."

He closed his eyes for a long moment. He heard Alleria sigh and felt her rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Has there been any word from the others?"

"Tyrande and Genn held their forces along the evacuation routes, keeping the naga at bay. Casualties aren't high, but they're not low either. There's about three hundred and fifty dead between them and plenty of injured."

"And the Horde?"

"The sin'dorei have already sent a couple of warships to patrol the waters left open by pulling back Stormwind's ships. Sylvanas has written, making it clear she'll leave us to recuperate. It seems she hates the naga more than the Alliance."

"That's... a relief. It'll be hard to convince Genn and Tyrande of that, though."

"Turalyon is taking point on that."

"He survived? I'm glad to hear it."

She chuckled, "I suppose I am too. He told me something, about the battle."

"Oh?"

"He was confused about why you didn't attempt to heal yourself. Why didn't you?"

"It wasn't that I didn't... it was that I couldn't. The Light... it..."

"It didn't respond," she murmured.

"You've seen it?"

"How many of my people do you think practiced the Light? The priests and paladins, sure. But also many others. the Sunwell was an integral part of our lives and why we were so attuned to the Light. After it was destroyed, so many of the ren'dorei became desperate and felt abandoned by the Light. They turned to the Void, but it wasn't always met with success."

"Why did they turn to the Void? Surely there were other options?"

"There may have been. But when the Light fails, what do you hear instead?"

"The whispers of the Void..."

"It exists where the Light cannot. Void and Light are two sides of the same coin. They exist together in unison, not in contrast."

"So when the Light is unable to help, the Void can?"

"With the right training, yes."

Anduin was quiet for a moment before responding, "Thank you. This is... it's a lot to think about."

"If you want pointers, Turalyon has offered his expertise."

He didn't point out that it would likely be her he turned to for advice. She probably already knew. He would not leave his people defenseless, and he would not fail them again. If she and her people could control the Void... couldn't he?


End file.
